In the city
or on a beach, climbing a staircase, trying on dresses, I can only
imagine you dancing. You are music with your whole body.
And rhythm and figures. Less sculpted for walking than for swimming
in a water called love. Your tapering legs stretch out even more,
and your ankles are light. Then there is no more routine or tiredness.
Not a single step is heavy.
After all, the dance that strikes the
ground and then detaches is a matter of attachments between the soul
and the body.